


Prison Heist

by Malfi1230



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychological Torture, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24310054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malfi1230/pseuds/Malfi1230
Summary: In Season 2, episode 12, Magnus and Valentine are switched. What if when Magnus, stuck in Valentine's body, pled with Alec to believe him, Alec listened, and eventually realized it was true?
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 103
Collections: Best Malec stories





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought the show wasted an opportunity in this episode. This could have been a moment of growth for Alec and Magnus's relationship, but instead, Alec was bullheaded and just followed orders, and the whole thing fizzled out. This is how I think it should have gone.  
> To read this story from Magnus's point of view: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24477706

“I know you’re listening! Please, I’m not Valentine. I’m Magnus Bane.”  


Alec stood up abruptly. He knew this wasn’t professional. In fact, Alec simply lost his temper. Snapped like a twig. But Valentine had been shouting those same words over and over, and Alec, listening to the security feed, couldn’t stand to hear it one more time. He didn’t like the sound of his boyfriend’s name in that mouth. Without pausing to think what he stood to gain from this interaction, he stormed down the cellblock hall to the cell’s steel door and slammed it open. Valentine turned to look at him, but Alec strode across the room and, in one fluid motion, slammed Valentine against the concrete wall. “That’s enough!”  


“Alexander! Thank God you are here. You have to listen to me…”  


“No, you listen to me!” Alec barked, cutting the man’s words off midstream. “This sick game of yours’s is over.”  


“It’s not a game,” Valentine insisted, his voice a ragged, breathless whisper. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m not Valentine. I’m Magnus. Azaziel switched us with a curse…”  


Valentine said something in Latin that went straight over Alec’s head. _Not that it matters,_ Alec thought. _This is low, even for Valentine._ “You’re insane,” he said, with conscious venom. Perhaps if Valentine realized, here and now, that this was pointless, he would move on and try something new. Something that didn’t feel like a personal attack on Alec.  


Valentine paused, then looked deliberately into Alec’s eyes. Alec noticed for the first time that Valentine’s hands, where they gripped his shoulders, were gentle.  


“You gave me that Omamori charm that I carry with me every day.”  


____

Alec froze.  


____

“It was after our night in Tokyo.” Valentine reached for him again, but Alec evaded his hands, and Valentine eventually gave up and allowed himself to be rammed back against the wall.  


____

“We were at the Palace Hotel,” he continued, desperately. “And we kissed on the terrace, and then you…”  


“Stop.”  


____

“You took me inside…”  


____

“Stop!” Alec yelled it this time. Valentine fell silent.  


____

Alec felt vaguely ill to hear such an intimate recollection from Valentine’s lips. That was such a nice memory, and so intensely personal. And it belonged to him and Magnus. No one else.  


“How do you know these things?” he demanded.  


“Because,” Valentine looked on the verge of tears. “It’s me, Alexander.”  


Alec couldn’t think. He couldn’t believe any of what he had just heard, and couldn’t face what it meant if it was by any remote chance true.  


____

“The day of Valentine’s massacre, you told me that you loved me. So if you love me, please, _please,” _Valentine begged, “You have to believe me.”  
__

____

____

____

____

____

Alec’s hand was still stretched out in front of him, holding Valentine at bay. Valentine reached out for it, and Alec reacted viscerally, snatching his hand away and shoving Valentine back.  


____

“Alexander…”  


____

“Just… just stop.” Alec whispered. It was all he could manage. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Without another word, he turned and rushed from the cell.  


____

“Alexander,” Valentine called brokenly. Just the one word followed Alec out.

____

____________________

____

After Alec slammed the cell door, with Valentine’s voice still ringing in his ears, he had meant to storm back off upstairs to the mountain of work and decisions he knew awaited him. He had no intention of wasting any of what had become increasingly scarce time thinking about whatever new lie Valentine now thought could influence him. He had had every intention of heading down the hall to the elevator and hopefully never coming back down. At least not until someone _else _had forced Valentine to give up the location of the Mortal Cup.__

____

____

____

Instead, he stood, taut and disturbed, both fists clenched, just in front of the iron door. 

____

It wasn’t just that Valentine had known secret details about their relationship. Certainly, that was concerning. His shock upon hearing Valentine ( _Valentine! _) tell him about their night in Tokyo and the Omamori charm Alec had given Magnus had been complete. His first present to Magnus. He actually hadn’t known that Magnus carried the charm with him everyday.__

____

____

____

____

____

_He doesn’t,_ Alec thought angrily. _He doesn’t, because that wasn’t Magnus. Magnus didn’t say that. That was Valentine’s invention._

____

_____ _

____

_____ _

____

It had been effective though. Also effective was the invocation of the day of Valentine’s massacre, when Alec had run outside, so panic-stricken he couldn’t breathe, desperate to find Magnus and terrified to think of what it would mean if he couldn’t. Magnus was both powerful and immortal—Alec had allowed himself to think of him as a fixture in the world, as unsinkable as the sun. The complacency that had bred took about a millisecond to shatter after Valentine’s massacre, upon seeing Downworlder bodies on the ground, Magnus nowhere to be found, and Clary unable to tell him where he might be. He’d run outside, breath coming short and ragged, until Magnus had come up behind him and grabbed his arm. The relief had been almost as painful as the fear. He’d snatched Magnus to him in a gesture that had felt more like reflex than intention and had confessed the feelings he knew he’d had for some time. The two of them had stood on the street, holding each other for several minutes, as Shadowhunters streamed past them. 

____

That Valentine knew these things was concerning, alarming even. Magnus and Alec had been alone in each instance. But it wasn’t unexplainable. People could be spied upon. Memories could be stolen. This seemed unlikely, but anything was possible. The Angel knew that there was a world of magic and who knew what else out there of which Alec couldn’t conceive. No, he could wrap his mind around Valentine’s impossible knowledge and dismiss it. 

____

It was the way Valentine had looked at him, and reached out to him. He had been shaking and desperate. His hands had grabbed Alec in a way that felt… habitual. Familiar. As if he was used to doing it—used to it being welcome and enjoyed. Unbidden, Alec’s mind went to Magnus’s loft, just before he had shot Azaziel. Magnus had seemed distracted. Alec had put his hand to Magnus’s cheek, and Magnus had gone stiff and drawn away just the tiniest bit. It had been only a slight reaction, and much had happened immediately afterward. Alec hadn’t truly marked it at the time. 

____

Valentine’s words were still ringing in his ears. “It’s me, Alexander. The day of Valentine’s massacre, you told me that you loved me. So if you love me, please, _please, _you have to believe me.”__

____

____

____

____

____

His voice. Magnus had a very specific way of speaking. It wasn’t an accent so much as an odd formal lilt to vowels and a particular method of dancing lightly over consonants. Something about English not being his first language, no matter how long he’d spoken it fluently. 

____

Valentine’s voice had had that same cadence in the cell, as he had begged Alec with tears in his eyes to believe him. 

____

Alec looked down at his hands and noticed they were shaking, with either fear or with anger. He couldn’t tell which. 

____

He shook his head, but the confusion wouldn’t clear. If Valentine was looking for a way to prolong his own life, to weaken Alec’s resolve, this was fiendishly clever. And the consequences of falling for such a ploy would be dire. But if it was true—if it was Magnus in that cell… 

____

Alec consciously unclenched his fists and walked slowly up the hall. 

____

__________________ 

____

Back upstairs, Alec attended to business, issued orders, but one part of his mind continued to ruminate. As soon as he got a moment, he went to Jace and pulled him to one side. Jace usually could help him think straight. 

____

“Hey, Jace, we need to talk.”

____

“Yeah! Heard you banished Azaziel. Congratulations.” Jace was excited for him, but Alec barely heard him. 

____

“Yeah, um, this is going to sound crazy.” Jace’s smile faded. “I was just with Valentine, and he says, he’s Magnus. That Azaziel switched them with some kind of a demonic curse.” 

____

“What?” Jace smiled hesitantly, like he was waiting for the punchline of a joke. 

____

“I know. It’s… hard to believe. But it’s just that… he knew things that only Magnus could know. Like, intimate details.” 

____

“Ok. Well, he could have had a warlock steal your memories.” 

____

Alec had thought so too, originally. Now, somehow, that didn’t feel likely. 

____

“No, that’s not possible, I would have noticed.”

____

“Ok,” Jace took Alec’s shoulder and drew him farther away from passerby. “Just remember that this is Valentine. He’s always ten steps ahead of us. He’s always planning his next move. Alec, just trust me. You don’t want to fall for his lies.”

That made sense. Alec agreed. But somehow, he wasn’t reassured.

“Jace,” he paused, then started again. “Jace, it _felt _like Magnus.” Alec found himself pleading with his parabatai to understand. “The mannerisms. His voice. His gestures. It was like he was in the room.”  
__

“He could have been pretending. Acting.”

“He was doing a damn good job!”

“Wait a minute.” Jace held out a hand. “Alec, what is it you are telling me? Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know!” Alec turned away in frustration for a moment, but then turned back. “I phoned Magnus this morning and he called me ‘Alec.’” Alec huffed in annoyance when Jace didn’t seem to immediately understand the import of that. “It’s not that Magnus _never_ calls me ‘Alec.’ But he’s one of the only people in the world who almost always calls me ‘Alexander.’” Alec turned away again, rubbing a hand over his face. “And when I saw him later, he seemed off. Distant. A lot happened then, and it was nothing I could put my finger on…” Alec was starting to feel frustrated with himself. He wasn’t expressing his suspicions well.

“Alec.” Jace’s voice was calm and authoritative. Alec appreciated it. It felt like a source of stability in a world that was tilting on its axis. “It sounds to me like at least part of you does believe that Valentine and Magnus have been switched.”

As soon as Jace had said it, Alec knew it was true. It was crazy, but true. And no one else at the Institute would agree with him.

Except maybe Jace. Alec looked down at his closest friend in the world. “It’s just a gut feeling. But it feels right.”

Jace nodded. “You have to follow your gut. But do one thing for me?”

Alec nodded.

“Go watch the security feed of Valentine’s cell. See how he acts when he isn’t performing for you.”

Generally speaking, interrogations were not Alec’s favorite thing to watch. But this made sense to him.

“Come with me?” Two heads were better than one.

“Of course.”


	2. Chapter 2

To Alec’s surprise and intense discomfiture, the video monitor showed the agony rune being drawn on Valentine’s arm when Alec and Jace entered the security office. Valentine was secured in the metal chair placed in the center of the cell for interrogation. He was held down by leather straps and surrounded by guards, with the Inquisitor standing before him. Alec couldn’t see her face, but her posture seemed unforgiving.

Alec and Jace stood before the monitor and listened to the first few questions. Valentine repeated the same story he had told Alec—he wasn’t Valentine, he was Magnus. He had been switched by a spell. He didn’t know how it had happened, but it must have been Azaziel. Yes, he knew this was crazy. Please believe him. Please… The attitudes of the onlookers in the cell were clearly unsympathetic. One of the men stepped forward and reached for the agony rune. 

When the stele was drawn over the rune, Valentine threw back his head and screamed, thrashing in the chair. Alec shifted uncomfortably and his jaw clenched and unclenched. Part of him, the part of him that believed this was his boyfriend who was tied to a chair and being tortured, wanted to run down to the cell and put himself between Magnus and whatever was causing him pain. The rest of him hesitated. When he had confronted Valentine in his cell, Valentine had put on a show. Alec wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but he wanted some unstudied, unprepared confirmation of his intuition. Something that couldn’t have been rehearsed… 

“Mama! Mama!” Valentine wailed, sounding suddenly like an abandoned child. 

Alec didn’t know he was moving until he was out the door and halfway down the hall, sprinting towards the elevators. 

“Alec, wait!” Jace was running after him. “What just happened? What is it?” 

Alec didn’t turn around to look at Jace, or respond to him. “Magnus!” Alec yelled, as if Magnus could hear him if he just yelled loud enough. He reached the elevators and pounded the lowest button repeatedly. Unsurprisingly, this did not make the elevator come any faster. Alec grunted deep in his throat in frustration and pelted towards the stairs. 

“Wait a minute. How do you know?” Jace was struggling to keep up. 

“Magnus just called out to his mother.” 

“Yeah, I heard Valentine.” Jace clearly wasn’t 100% onboard. 

Alec turned around on the second landing down. Jace stopped short, barely managing not to collide with him. “The agony rune forces a victim to remember their worst memory.” 

“Ok, so?” Jace responded, bewildered. 

“So, I know what Magnus’s worst memory is! It’s finding his mother’s body after her suicide!” Alec was running again, Jace behind him. 

“Valentine could have stolen that memory. He could know this the same way he knows the details of your relationship.” But Jace was now running at Alec’s shoulder, his objection pro forma. 

“Agony runes wipe every thought beyond the pain from the victim’s mind. You know that. I don’t think Valentine could be putting on an act while feeling that sort of pain.” 

They burst into the room, Jace just behind Alec. Valentine, _Magnus, _was slumped to one side in the chair, crying. The man with the stele was reaching for him again, and Magnus seemed too exhausted to struggle, but as Alec burst in, his head lifted slightly.__

He looked briefly… happy. Happy that Alec was there. Magnus’s eyes radiated trust. Faith. 

Any last vestige of doubt Alec had been harboring evaporated. 

The Inquisitor looked frustrated, clearly not getting the answers she wanted. She turned towards Alec and Jace with eyebrows lifted, stunned. 

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked, too astonished to be angry. 

“Ma’am, there’s been a mistake,” Alec started. “We’ve been deceived. That’s not Valentine. You’re hurting the wrong person. That’s Magnus Bane.” 

“Madame Inquisitor,” Jace took over, somewhat more calmly, “We have good reason to believe that Valentine and Magnus Bane have been…switched. Magically. One person’s essence in the other’s body.” 

“Yes, I’ve just heard this story.” The Inquisitor laughed humorlessly. “It’s a very convenient account. Imagine what a conundrum we’d have, trying to sort out the truth of it. It would grant the prisoner quite a bit of time. Time to plan an escape while we chase our tails.” 

“Ma’am, please.” Alec tried to sound authoritative and logical, rather than desperate and panicked. “I thought the same. But I have spoken with... the prisoner." Alec thought quickly, aiming to appeal to objective truth rather than the intuition that felt golden to him, but would be dismissed by all others. "He knows things that only Magnus Bane could know. He speaks in the same manner as Magnus and uses all the same gestures. And his worst memory, conjured by the agony rune—he mentioned his mother. Magnus Bane’s worst memory involves his mother...”

“Plenty of people call out to their mothers when in pain.” The Inquisitor was unswayed. “The rest is theater. Stolen memories, educated guessing, and what must have been quite a performance. None of that constitutes proof.” 

“Please.” Alec realized suddenly he was fighting a losing battle, and if he lost, the torture would continue. “How hard would it really be to look into? We could investigate—quickly!” He added as the Inquisitor’s eyes rose even higher on her powdered brow.

“Ma’am,” Jace interjected. “No one is suggesting we release the prisoner immediately. But torture is always a last resort. We can’t continue the interrogation if there is even the slightest chance we have the wrong person.” 

“The interrogation will continue until we have what we need,” the Inquisitor responded crisply. “Or until the prisoner is no longer able to be useful.” 

The world seemed to tilt drunkenly as the implication of those words sunk in. Alec went numb, then cold in horror. Magnus looked up, all remaining color draining from his face. “No, please…” 

“Ma’am, that can’t happen.” Alec realized he was yelling. He started again, succeeding in lowering his voice, but could not erase the urgency. “Ma’am, I won’t allow it. As Head of the Institute…” 

“As Head of the Institute or anything else, you are clearly personally compromised by the situation at hand. Not to mention outranked. By me. Guards,” she said over her shoulder. “Remove these two men.” 

In retrospect, what Alec did next made little sense. He had no real chance of fighting his way out of this. He couldn’t have freed Magnus and gotten him out of the Institute with only his fists. But when the first guard grabbed him, Alec, without consciously deciding to do it, punched the man in the face, following up with a quick knee jab to the gut. The man crumpled like a piece of origami, and for a moment, as Alec reached for the keys he saw dangling from the guard’s belt, he thought he had the slightest chance of success. 

Then the room was swarming with guards. It took six of them to subdue Alec. Jace, to his credit, had started fighting as soon as Alec had, and was almost as unwilling to capitulate, and so an extra four men had to be called in the restrain him. As the two Shadowhunters were wrestled from the room, Alec caught sight of Magnus’s stark, frightened expression on Valentine’s rough face. 

“It’s going to be ok,” he called to his lover, trying to communicate calm and confidence. “You’re going to be ok. Just hold on. I’m going to fix this.”

Valentine’s dark eyes, filled with Magnus’s tears, were the last thing Alec saw as he was dragged from the cell. 


	3. Chapter 3

“Now what?” Jace sounded somewhat exasperated. “Alec, seriously? We’re lucky we aren’t in a cell ourselves.”

This was accurate. Alec was actually fairly surprised that they were not. He and Jace sat on the stairs in front of the Institute, neither any the worse for wear, save a few bruises that faded quickly with the use of their healing runes. Instead of being locked up, they had been thrown out, and guards—new faces Alec didn’t recognize who must have come with the Inquisitor—stood posted at the Institute’s doors, waiting to block their entrance should they try to come back in. 

Alec shook his head to clear the anger and upset. Magnus didn’t need his anger. He needed his help.

“Nothing is going to get solved so long as Magnus is in Valentine’s body.” Alec was thinking out loud, but it felt good. Productive. “If there is a way to switch them back, that is the quickest way to get Magnus free.” 

“Ok.” Jace sighed. “Don’t suppose you know anything about body switching spells.” 

“Not a damn thing.” Alec smiled. “But while Magnus may be the best warlock in North America, he isn’t the only one. And he is beloved.” His smile softened. “By many. There have to be warlocks who will help if we ask.” 

“Plenty.” Jace agreed. “Have any of their numbers?” 

“Just Cat’s.” Alec was briefly disappointed with himself. Magnus knew everyone in his life. How had he never managed to meet a few more warlocks? “Maybe she can send up the bat signal, so to speak?” 

Jace nodded. “It’s somewhere to start at least.” 

Alec pulled out his phone and called Cat. The story sounded even crazier on this rendition, but may the Angel bless her, Cat said nothing and listened until the end. 

“It’s not impossible,” she said at last, after at least twenty seconds of silence. “It could certainly have happened. But I am a bit out of my depth. Let me make some calls. And try to be patient.” 

She hung up. Alec stared at his phone bleakly, his leg jogging up and down anxiously. Patience was rarely his dominant emotion, even at the best of times. His mind cast about for something else he could do, then thought of his sister, probably still inside the Institute, having just heard that her brother had been thrown out. 

He dialed her number. He could at least explain the situation to her. 

Izzy answered on the first ring. “Alec, what the actual hell?” Alec smiled. Izzy never stood on ceremony. 

“Izzy, listen. This is going to sound genuinely insane.” 

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Izzy listened somewhat less complacently than Cat, but when Alec finished, all she said was, “You are absolutely sure of this?” 

“Yes,” Alec said simply. 

“Of course you are. Stupid question. You wouldn’t have done what you did had you not been certain.” She sighed. “Shit is crazy in here, Alec. The Inquisitor has taken over and no one knows exactly what to think about you being gone.” 

“Where are you right now? Can anyone hear you?” 

“No, I’m in private at the moment.” Alec could hear Izzy thinking. “Look, if you need me, I can come out to you, but I think I am going to be of more use to you here. Whenever you make your move, you are going to need someone on the inside.” 

“My move?” Alec asked, smiling, and he heard her answering smile through her reply. 

“Of course. I know you, brother. You’ve always got a move.”

_________________ 

“Madame Inquisitor?” Izzy looked down at her shoes, then back up, biting one lip hesitantly. “May I speak with you, just for a moment?” She grimaced in a chagrined manner, keeping her head slightly bowed, respectfully. 

It had been three and a half hours since Alec had been thrown out of the Institute. Izzy knew the interrogation of Valentine (Magnus?) had continued all afternoon. The fact that there was nothing she could do about that saved her the trouble of having to think about it too much. Magnus was in agony. She couldn’t help him. Thus, she shoved the thought to the back of her mind and focused on what she could do to help. 

The Inquisitor had just emerged from the prison block for the first time all day. Izzy had waited a few moments so that the Inquisitor was… well, not alone. Powerful people were rarely alone. But at least not surrounded. 

“Isabelle Lightwood.” The Inquisitor looked down at her, somewhat wary of the younger Lightwood sibling after the elder’s actions. “We may speak. Of course.” With a look, she sent her congregating associates a short distance away. 

Izzy knew that what she was attempting now was at its basest level a seduction. This bothered her not at all. While others might frown at the idea of seduction and look down on those who made strategic use of their own attraction and charm, Izzy was a pragmatic soul. Seduction was a skill like any other, to be practiced, honed, and used when needed. Men could be seduced, and Izzy, all lithe curves, dark skin, and dramatic features, generally excelled at that. But seduction wasn’t always about sex and innuendo. It was about finding what appealed to the target.

The Inquisitor. What appealed to her? What would she, with her authority and might, want from someone she viewed as a subordinate?

“I wanted to apologize for my brother’s behavior.” The Inquisitor tilted her head to one side. Clearly, she had not been expecting an apology, but she was happy to be receiving one. Izzy offered a timidly ingratiating smile. “And ask you not to think the worst of Alec. He is a good person, and a strong leader. But if he has a weakness, it is his loved ones. If Valentine was looking for a soft spot, he couldn’t have chosen better so far as Alec is concerned.”

The Inquisitor was already nodding, mollified by Izzy's overtly deferential manner. “Of course. Who of us is not subject to such weaknesses?" Apparently, when approached with enough courtesy, the Inquisitor was willing to be gracious. "But his susceptibility to such a story—you must admit, it is concerning.”

Izzy nodded. “I agree. And I’m surprised. It's unlike my brother to be easily taken in." She shrugged helplessly. "Valentine must have really sold it. He is full of surprises, and rarely surprised himself.” Izzy paused, and aimed for artlessness. “Has Valentine given up the Cup yet?” 

“No.” The Inquisitor sighed. “As Mr. Lightwood made his distress at Valentine’s deception concerning Magnus Bane quite plain, Valentine has evidently decided that this new ruse is an effective strategy. He’s sticking with it. He’s said nothing other than that he is truly Magnus Bane and thus must be released all day.”

“That’s disappointing,” Izzy said. “So, what’s the next step? More interrogation? Is there another tactic we can try?” 

“The interrogation is over.” The Inquisitor looked mournful for a moment. “The man is clearly never going to give me what I want. We are done with questions. I am now ordering his execution.” 

Izzy’s mind went blank, but she kept her face still. After a moment, she asked, “Pardon me for asking, but… might that be a bit premature? There could still be some utility in keeping Valentine…” 

“I’m afraid not. I’m ready to be done with this. As soon as the Council approves the decision, I will move forward.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive feedback! I love getting happy comments. And I apologize for typos--I revise them as I notice them, but sometimes I get ahead of myself.

“Alec, we are running out of time!” Izzy paced around her room, holding her cellphone to her ear in a tight fist. Clary stood nearby, fidgeting nervously. She’d only just been brought hastily up to speed, and still seemed thunderstruck by the developments.

“I know,” Alec’s voice said over the line. His voice was devoid of anything other than crisp authority, which was Alec’s default in moments of stress. Izzy knew that if she were standing next to her brother and could have touched him, she would have felt every muscle in his body tensed, as if preparing for assault. “I’ve been in touch with Catarina. Apparently, there are two ways to reverse a spell like this. The easiest is for both people to drink a potion in each other’s presence.” 

“How are we going to pull that off?” Izzy burst out.

“We aren’t. We can’t. Too many moving pieces—we’d have to capture Valentine in Magnus’s body, then either break Magnus out or sneak Valentine in with the potion. Which apparently has to be fresh, for no doubt some very important, magically profound reason. Way too many ways for it to go wrong. So plan B is the simpler route, but it takes longer and calls for more from the warlocks—it takes an enormous amount of power, but there is an incantation that reverses the spell. Catarina has a group of warlocks together. They have already begun, but the execution of the spell takes time.” 

“How much time?” 

“Catarina wasn’t specific. An hour, maybe more.” 

“We may not have that!” Izzy stopped. “Alec, the Council is considering the execution application now. If they give the go-ahead…” 

“I know!” Alec cut her off. He sounded as if he were in physical pain. “Izzy, just… please. Keep me informed.” The line went dead. 

Izzy turned to Clary. “He’s barely keeping it together.” 

Clary shook her head. “Izzy, is this true? I've never heard of such a thing. Switching bodies... And if it is true, how on earth did it happen?” 

Izzy shook her head. She was no more capable to explaining the odd turn of events than Clary. All she knew was, Alec was certain, and no one knew Magnus better. Alec’s certainty was enough for her to go on. 

She also knew that, if Alec lost Magnus, he would never be the same. 

“Clary, you need to help me. I’m going to try to talk to a few council members. I want you to just… hang around the Inquisitor’s people. Subtly. Just… try to overhear a few things. I want to keep tabs on her.” 

“Of course.” Clary gave a quick smile, put her hand on Izzy’s arm briefly, and then rushed from the room. 

_________________ 

“The council said no, Alec. They refused to grant the request for execution.” 

Alec smiled. It was the first good news he’d had all day. Perhaps the council had recognized that the Inquisitor was as personally involved in the situation as he was. Alec knew that Valentine had killed the Inquisitor's son. The Inquisitor must see the situation as the best justice she was ever going to get. She wanted that justice so badly; it made sense that she'd refuse any evidence that her retribution was falling on the wrong head. If it hadn't been Magnus she was abusing, Alec perhaps would have sympathized. 

Alec had been walking in huge circles for hours, just trudging the block around the Institute blindly, receiving updates from Izzy and Catarina intermittently. He’d helped organize a second group of warlocks to wait outside Magnus’s loft, where magical surveillance had determined Valentine was, wearing Magnus’s body. As soon as Catarina’s incantation was complete, the group would move in to capture Valentine and bring him to the Institute—if, in fact, it was Valentine in the loft after the spell was completed. 

Catarina had been foggy on the details of the reversal. Specifically, she couldn’t tell Alec which body would be where. “Alec, it could go either way. Either Magnus will be in the cell and Valentine in the loft, or Valentine will be in the cell and Magnus in his loft. I honestly don’t know which will result after we complete the incantation. All I can promise is that the right person will be in the right body. Where the people will be… we just have to wait and see.” 

Waiting wasn’t something Alec was good at, which was why he’d been constantly moving all afternoon. Jace had dogged him patiently, saying little, helping with communication and coordination as needed. But when Alec turned around and repeated for Jace’s benefit, “No execution! That’s good. That buys us time,” Jace had shared his relieved smile. 

The relief was short-lived. “Hang on Alec,” Izzy said suddenly. “Clary just walked in.” Alec heard Clary’s delicate voice in the background, trilling anxiously, then Izzy was back. “Alec, scratch that. We have no time. Clary overheard the Inquisitor speaking with one of her people. She’s not taking no for an answer. She’s doing this. She’s going to execute Valentine herself.” 

_Odd,_ mused one distant corner of Alec’s mind. Part of his mind refused to accept the words. Like someone had stuffed cotton in his ears. Except that his body felt as if it had been dropped in icy water. _What an odd sensation._

Next to him, Jace must have felt an echo of Alec’s feelings through their bond. He put a gentle hand on Alec’s shoulder. 

__“Alec! Alec, are you there? Did you hear me?”__

__The strangeness of the moment vanished, and Alec shoved his dread to the back of his mind. That dread, and its accompanying paralysis, wasn’t helpful. “Izzy, I need you to get me in. We need to get to that cell. We need to stop the Inquisitor. We need to give Catarina and the warlocks more time.”__

____

____

They were words of action, and Izzy was always ready for action. “There are guards at the front doors, but we both know that’s not the only way in. You remember what I’m talking about.”

Alec nodded, then remembered belatedly that Izzy couldn’t see him. “The back door. Looks like a fire escape from the street so the mundanes don’t think anything of it. Where we snuck out as kids.” 

“It could be guarded, but it’s unlikely. I doubt the Inquisitor ever snuck out of the Institute as a child to go get into Angel knows what trouble.” Izzy’s voice was sweet with the shared memory. “I’ll meet you there.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Indeed, the door had not been guarded. Izzy and Clary had let him and Jace in from the inside. As a group, they raced across the lobby to the stairs, not wanting to risk being waylaid at the elevators. Alec kept his head down, but he could feel people noticing him—mostly with bemusement, but a few were almost certainly wondering whether they ought to report his presence, or perhaps attempt to arrest him. However, none of the Inquisitor’s people were in the atrium to keep an eye out for him. The guards at the door, trained to look for Alec’s likeness, had apparently been the only precaution the Inquisitor had taken.

Time was playing tricks with Alec. Every time he blinked, he was terrified that by the time he opened his eyes, Magnus would be dead. Izzy and Clary had been unable to find out any more about the Inquisitor and how she planned to execute Magnus without the council’s approval. She could be waiting until nightfall, when the Institute would be somewhat quieter. Or, she could be on her way to Magnus’s cell already. All Alec knew was that time was not on his side. 

The four of them raced down the stairs in a barely controlled stampede, their footsteps echoing softly in the tall, cavernous space. They all exploded from the stairs into the cellblock hallway and were met by six guards, apparently guarding Magnus’s cell. Alec’s heart sank. With cells this secure, additional guards weren’t necessary to keep a prisoner inside. The only reason to place additional guards would be to keep others from going into a cell. If the Inquisitor was planning an illegal execution, and wanted privacy to complete it… 

He froze, his mind reeling with the horror of where that train of thought ended, but Izzy and Clary never hesitated. Neither so much as paused, but only sprinted more furiously forward. As they neared the guards, Clary darted, lightfooted and nimble as a bird, using the wall as leverage to jump up and around the first guard, locking an elbow around his throat as she kicked a second in the jugular. Izzy, sinuous as a tiger, slid neatly past a guard’s attempted strike and deftly kicked his legs from beneath him. He fell heavily to the floor, and without a break in movement, Izzy ducked an attacking guard’s punch, seized his arm, and twisted it smoothly behind his back, using the acute discomfort of the angle to force him to the floor. 

“Go!” she ordered over her shoulder as her victim cringed and spasmed in pain. “Both of you. We’ve got this.” 

Alec and Jace raced past, into the cell. 

_______________ 

Alec burst through the cell door, Jace on his heels, and his eyes absorbed the tableau in front of him in one shocked instant. 

Magnus, still imprisoned both in Valentine’s body and the prison chair, was screaming for Alec through an ugly leather gag. The Inquisitor stood before him, holding a long, cruel knife. She was so focused on Magnus that she didn’t seem to have heard the disturbance in the hall or the clatter of Alec and Jace’s entrance. She didn’t even blink, and Alec understood that her insistence on interrogation, her determination to execute, and her refusal to submit to the council’s authority were no longer connected to any professional duty, but born completely of her own personal vendetta. As Alec watched, she reared the hand holding the knife back and let it begin its long, slashing descent towards Magnus’s throat. 

Jace later told Alec that he had never seen anyone move so quickly, but at the time, Alec felt as if he was moving through water, stuck in slow motion. He threw himself forward, not attempting to grab the moving target that was the Inquisitor’s arm, but instead trying only to put himself between Magnus and the knife. Every detail of the moment—the Inquisitor’s merciless, but strangely melancholic, expression, the trembling of Magnus’s body, and the sweat on his own palms, was intense and haunting. Alec knew that, no matter how this ended, he would never be able to forget it. It would plague his nightmares forever. 

He reached Magnus and threw his arms around him, leaning over him so that his own body protected Magnus’s. He waited to feel the bite of the knife. 

Instead, he felt an odd sensation go through Magnus. Magnus seemed to tense, and then Alec thought he felt a peculiar, wild gale-force wind, not in the room but within Magnus’s body. 

He opened his eyes, and saw Magnus’s cat’s gaze staring back at him. Terrified, but blessedly familiar. 

_Catarina, you are a miracle worker._

“There you are,” he sighed, and smiled. 


	6. Chapter 6

Had Alec been in any sort of emotional place to find amusement in anything, he would have been amused by the way the Inquisitor’s indignant protestations broke off abruptly, as if severed by a knife, when Alec straightened out of his protective crouch and revealed Magnus’s face and body, tied to the chair where Valentine’s had been.

“Where is Valentine?” she demanded. “Where did he go? What is the meaning of this?” 

Without so much as glancing at her, Alec stepped around to the rear of the chair and began untying the leather gag over his lover’s mouth. He was done talking. Thankfully, Jace stepped up. 

“Odds are, he’s on his way here, in the custody of the warlock Catarina and several of her associates.” His voice was curt, and Alec felt that Jace didn’t have much to say to the woman either. “Don’t feel the need to come upstairs, Madame Inquisitor. I’ll have a team meet the warlocks at the front of the Institute and bring Valentine down to this cell for you.” 

Finished with the gag, Alec began working on the restraints on Magnus’s arms. Magnus’s skin, beneath the leather, was chaffed and red. Alec’s stomach swooped sickeningly at the sight, though a dispassionate part of him mused, _I wonder how that works? It was Valentine’s body that was tied here, but now Magnus’s body bears the marks of the torture._ He’d have to ask Magnus later, when Magnus was in a condition to help him ponder the curiosities of corporeal interchanging. For the moment, Alec simply ducked his head to hide the clench in his jaw as he surreptitiously eyed the angry welts. When the leather strap finally came loose, he gripped Magnus by one arm, careful not to place his hand over the raw, red stripes, and pulled him to his feet. The sooner they were out of here, the better. 

“Mr. Bane, if you’ll wait please. We need to debrief. I am still unsure as to how you came to be here…” 

Magnus glanced ever so slightly at Alec, and Alec gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. _Screw that._

No one but Alec would have noticed the relief in Magnus’s eyes. To the rest of the room, he must have seemed impassive and blank. Without glancing at the Inquisitor, he crossed the room and left, Alec and Jace just behind him. 

Leaving with his dignity, however, seemed to take the last of Magnus’s strength. As soon as they had exited the room and were out of the Inquisitor’s sight, his legs began to buckle and he sagged against the wall. 

Alec had been waiting for this; he had felt the trembling of Magnus’s limbs and the cold sweat coating his skin as he had untied him. Without a word, he drew Magnus’s arm across his own shoulders and wrapped an arm around his waist, taking most of his weight. Jace came forward, loyal as a rock, and supported Magnus’s other side. They continued into the main hallway. 

Izzy and Clary stood there, standing triumphantly over the half-a-dozen now unconscious guards who had tried to halt their progress on the way in. Neither woman seemed the least bit winded. In fact, Alec was fairly certain he saw them exchange a small smile of complicit satisfaction as they beheld the subdued guards. 

Then Izzy saw them exit, and Clary, who had had her back to Alec, whirled around at the change in Izzy’s expression.

“Magnus! Is he hurt?”

“Keep moving.” Alec said gruffly, not wanting to be overheard. The last thing he wanted was for the Inquisitor to overhear and come into the hall. She didn't belong anywhere near Magnus right now. Logically, he accepted that part of the Inquisitor believed she had been doing the right thing, and the rest of her hadn’t been in control of her own grief. But he wasn’t feeling particularly logical, or forgiving. 

Izzy and Clary took the hint in his expression and hurried ahead, calling the elevator so that it was waiting for them by the time Alec and Jace arrived, more or less carrying Magnus between them.

Not a word was spoken in the elevator. Alec got the sense Magnus was not entirely aware of his surroundings and was struggling to keep his feet beneath him. Alec’s hand held Magnus’s arm over his shoulders, and he rubbed his thumb comfortingly against Magnus’s skin. One corner of Magnus’s mouth flicked upward, ever so slightly.

The elevator doors opened with the soft chime of a bell, and they exited to see a crowd of Shadowhunters, each one with a tumult of questions and demands. 

Alec had never hated the Institute, or his fellow Shadowhunters, more than he did at that moment. It was an irrational reaction, he knew. Of course they wanted answers. Their leader had been previously ejected from the Institute; reentering and storming the cellblock had been effectively staging a coup. And now, he was somehow exiting the cellblock with a warlock who, so far as they knew, had unquestionably not been within the Institute before. It was clear to all involved that something—high treason at worst, and untraditional politics at best—had happened behind their backs. 

But could no one see that now was categorically not the time for questions? Could no one see that this warlock needed to get out and get home, before he collapsed on the marble floors? 

“Step back!” he commanded in his most authoritative voice. Magnus called it his, “Respect me, for I am head of the Institute” voice, when he was in a teasing mood. It was impressive, if Alec did say so himself, but without Jace glowering next to him and Izzy and Clary moving ahead, forcibly clearing a path, it probably wouldn’t have had any effect. They parted the crowd and moved through as swiftly as possible. Alec fielded questions, putting people off as effectively as he knew how. 

“Everything is under control. We had an emergency situation—a case of mistaken identity—but the problem has been rectified. I will explain fully later.”

They burst out into the sunshine at last, to see Catarina and five warlocks standing on the steps, Valentine bound and gagged in glowing, magicked bindings. 

If looks could kill. Valentine’s scowl was so dark it seemed to absorb the light of the late afternoon sun. Alec returned the look. At the moment, there was nothing he wanted to do more than take that man down to the cell he’d just left and visit upon him all that had been visited upon Magnus. 

Nothing he’d rather do, except maybe get Magnus away from that man’s stare and into his own bed.

“Get him home,” Jace said, making sure Alec could support Magnus’s full weight before gently extricating himself from under his arm. “We’ll handle this.” Izzy gave a dark smile and stepped to Jace’s side.

“Need a portal?” Clary offered quietly, placing a reassuring hand on Alec’s shoulder. 

Alec stepped into the gyre of Clary’s portal, and the chaos vanished, replaced instantly by the quiet of Magnus’s loft. Alec breathed with relief and looked around. He could see there had been small disturbances—a broken glass, a few knickknacks out of place. But it looked, and smelled, of peace and security. 

Beside him, Magnus’s knees gave way entirely and he crumpled against Alec. 

_______________

Deftly, with one hand wrapped around his back just under his shoulders and the other under his knees, Alec scooped Magnus up before he could hit the ground. It was far from easy. Magnus was shorter than Alec by a few inches, but he was well-built and leanly muscled. Fortunately, they didn’t have far to go. Alec staggered into the bedroom, aware of how Magnus’s head rested trustingly against his chest. Alec kissed the top of his head, then lay his boyfriend down as gently as he knew how. Turning towards a nearby chest of drawers, he pulled out a pair of soft, linen pants and a silk robe—the kind Magnus wore before climbing into bed. If he knew Magnus at all, he knew that Magnus would want out of that prison uniform if it was the last thing he did. 

Magnus accepted the help in changing clothes passively, almost bonelessly. His eyes seemed trained to the middle distance. He was conscious, but absent, and every now and then he flinched at something of which Alec was not aware. 

After completing the change of clothes, Alec let Magnus lie back on the pillows. He took his hand and kissed the knuckles, then the palm.

“Magnus. Hey, open your eyes. I know you are tired, and I promise you can sleep, but open your eyes just for a minute.”

Magnus’s cat eyes opened, clearly exhausted but attempting to cooperate. 

“Do I need to call Caterina, or someone? Do you need medical attention? I need to know if…”

“No,” Magnus said quickly. “I’m wiped out. Probably in shock. But nothing broken.” He pulled his hand back and turned away. “Just need rest.” Magnus curled into a ball and went silent. 

Now that they were both safe in Magnus’s loft with the adrenaline fading fast, Alec felt paralyzed by guilt. Magnus looked so small. And despite his assurance, he did seem a bit broken. 

It was little wonder. Alec knew how agony runes worked; the punishment they inflicted was saved for truly desperate circumstances, or for the true worst of the worst. Magnus had endured hours of it. And then had come mere moments from execution. If death was scary for a mortal, who was aware of it as, at best, an eventual inevitability at every moment of every day, what must it be for an immortal? 

And besides that, he’d faced Alec at his worst. Faced Alec’s disbelief and rejection. When Magnus tried to explain his plight to his lover, the one person he thought might come to his defense, Alec had responded with stony refusals. He’d begged for help, and been rebuffed. 

_This is your fault,_ Alec thought wretchedly to himself. _You might have saved him from all of this. If you had just believed him when he first told you who he was. Instead, you waited and watched the Inquisitor torture your boyfriend because you needed more proof._

Alec wanted to crawl into the bed with Magnus and press him to his chest—offer him some kind of comfort—but he didn’t feel that he had the right. Were he Magnus, he wouldn’t want Alec anywhere near him right now. Probably best to give him some space. “Get some sleep. I’ll be nearby if you need anything.” Whether he had the right to be present or not, he couldn’t leave the loft right now. Not until Magnus was back on his feet. 

Magnus didn’t reply, and Alec edged out of the room.

_____________ 

It must have been hours later. Despite his best intentions, Alec had dozed a little himself. It had been a long day. He stirred sleepily on the couch, wondering what had woken him.

“No…”

Someone was groaning. It sounded as if that person was in pain. Alec frowned.

“NO!” This time, it was a shout. 

Alec bolted upright and raced into the bedroom. Magnus was curled up on the bed, his back to Alec, shaking and sweating, his hands clenched in the sheets.

“Hey, Magnus! Magnus, it’s alright. Can you hear me?” Magnus had once told Alec that nightmares for warlocks were particularly intense. Something about magic making subconsciously summoned imaginings feel more substantial. Magnus admitted that he felt lucky to generally not tend towards nightmares, but there had been a few occasions when Alec had woken in the middle of the night to an empty bed, and would peer into the living room to see Magnus staring pensively into a glass of whisky, and known that Magnus had chosen wakefulness over whatever unpleasantness sleep held. 

Now, Magnus seemed unable to wake up from whatever he was experiencing. Alec felt momentarily frozen with panic, but then whipped around the foot of the bed to the other side, so that he could face his lover. His lover, whose face was tight with terror, his eyes moving restlessly beneath their lids. 

Gently, Alec placed his hand on Magnus’s cheek, his thumb tracing the cheekbone. “Magnus, wake up. You’re ok. You’re safe. It’s over. I promise.” Inwardly, he flinched. _Where do you get off promising him anything? Where were your promises when he needed you to believe him?_ “Come on, it’s ok. Wake up.” Magnus woke in one quick jolt, going stiff, but for a moment, he didn’t seem to realize he was awake. His eyes stared back, bewildered and lost, then he jerked upright and stared around the loft, gasping. 

“Magnus?”

Magnus took two deep, shuddering breaths, then sighed, angling his head away from Alec. “I’m sorry,” he said, so softly that it was almost a whisper. He seemed to be trying not to meet Alec’s eyes.

“What in the hell are you sorry for?” Alec said incredulously. “Seriously? _You’re_ sorry?” Magnus didn’t reply. Instead, he started to silently weep. 

Alec reached out and pulled him roughly to him, one hand knotted in his robe and one hand cradling the back of his head. Magnus buried his head in Alec’s chest and sobbed, gripping his shirt like he was an anchor in a storm. Alec held him and made soft, reassuring noises, meaningless but soothing, until the tears dried and the sobs turned ragged and hitching. At last, Magnus pushed away slightly, still refusing to look up into Alec’s face.

“Do you want me to go?” Alec asked softly. 

A long pause, then Magnus murmured, “No.”

“Magnus,” Alec said softly. “I’m so sorry. This was my fault.”

And finally, Magnus did look up and meet Alec’s eyes, apparently too shocked to control the impulse. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t believe you. You told me what had happened. You tried to prove it to me. If I had listened to you then and there, I could have done something. I could have stopped the interrogation before it started.” Alec stopped miserably. “This is my fault,” he repeated, feeling hopelessly inadequate.

“None of this is your fault, Alexander.” Magnus’s voice had regained its ordinary force, but Alec wasn’t ready to accept reassurance. He wanted to confess, and part of him, the part that was a glutton for punishment, wanted Magnus to hear it and blame him for what was rightfully his responsibility. 

“I saw the beginning of the interrogation.” Alec began again. “I was in the security office. I wanted to watch the cellblock feed. I wanted to see how you acted when I wasn’t right there in front of you. I was testing you.”

“What gave me away?” Magnus asked with a quirk of his mouth.

“What you yelled. Your worst memory.” Alec was sorry to bring it up. Magnus had endured too many renditions of that memory already.

Magnus looked down and gave another shuddering sigh. Alec sensed there was something about that memory that Magnus was thinking but not sharing, but before he could enquire, Magnus had moved on. “Alexander, truly, none of this is your fault. What happened was crazy. Wildly unbelievable. No one in their right mind would have so much as considered it. Certainly no one else in that entire Institute did. But you did. If you were testing me—well, you did what you had to do. And you saved my life.”

“You should be furious with me,” Alec argued. 

“Well, I’m not. I’m… scared. Still. And I’m furious with myself for being so.” He looked up, looking helpless again. “Alexander, you go out and fight demons every day, without magic. You face death without blinking. You make it look easy, even when I know it can’t be.” Magnus looked so loving for a moment that Alec all but lost his breath. “I was locked in another’s body today. I had no magic. I was trapped and helpless, I was constantly in pain, and I was told I was going to die. And all I kept thinking was, 'I don’t want to die alone.'” He shrugged. “It wasn’t a courageous thought. I feel pathetic. I don’t like that. It feels wrong.” 

“Probably because it is wrong. You’re wrong about this. Nothing about what you just described strikes me as pathetic at all.” Alec laughed, but sympathetically. “Vulnerable is different from pathetic. And you don’t have to enjoy feeling vulnerable. Being you, it can’t happen too often.” He reached out and took Magnus’s face between his hands, forcing Magnus to look at him. “Listen, let’s get the obvious out of the way. No one worth anything is thinking any less of you for anything that happened. I have had three text messages from Izzy, five from Clary, and two from Jace, all of them asking me to apologize to you on their behalves. Every one of them has called me to check on you. They all feel sick that we let this happen.” Magnus started to turn away again, and Alec held his head securely. “No, listen to me. You are the bravest, strongest person I know. What happened in that cell doesn’t touch that. And you risk your life all the time. Just as often as I do. I’ve watched you drain your magic down the dregs to help others—to save lives. I’ve watched you face death with courage and steel.” 

“Alexander…” 

“No, listen to me.” Alec felt intently aware of the importance of the moment. “Every time you head into a fight, you are risking so much more than I am. I risk my life—80 or 90 years at best. You risk forever.” Magnus flinched at the reminder of Alec’s mortality, but Alec ploughed on. “You do it all the time, because you have decided there are things that are more important than your forever.” He gave his lover’s head a gentle shake for inflection. “Do you think anyone else could have withstood hours of torture without any reaction? Do you think I would have taken feeling doubted, and rejected, and alone any better than you? What happened in that cell would have broken me. And you are not broken.” He said it fervently, praying he was making himself heard, then pressed his lips against Magnus’s and kissed him with all his conviction. Magnus tasted of tears, and of all the best things in the world. 

Magnus sat still for a moment, perhaps willing himself to believe what he had just been told, then allowed himself to fall into the kiss. They separated, and Magnus leaned forward, ever so slightly, into Alec’s body. Alec wrapped his arms around him, wondering if he was comforting Magnus, or himself. 

Eventually, they lay down, and Alec watched Magnus drift off to sleep, occasionally running a gentle hand over his hair, until he felt fairly certain that there would be no more nightmares. By the time the sun rose, both men were asleep.


End file.
